


hark, the herald angel cooks

by marshmallowdeanie



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Anal Sex, Bossy Castiel, Bottom Castiel, Castiel and Dean in Love, Castiel-centric, Domestic Castiel/Dean Winchester, M/M, Mary Winchester Lives, Rimming, Schmoop, Sub Dean, Top Dean, character anxiety, holiday fic, sorry if dean's a little 2 dimensional
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-28
Updated: 2014-11-28
Packaged: 2018-02-27 07:32:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2684495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marshmallowdeanie/pseuds/marshmallowdeanie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel is on his last nerve when it's their turn to host Thanksgiving dinner. Dean isn't much help, and Castiel can't seem to stop worrying. Bonus: cute Sam and Jess dialogue~</p>
            </blockquote>





	hark, the herald angel cooks

**Author's Note:**

> (forgive me, I haven't written any type of porn in a veryyyyy long while. thought i'd throw it in there.)

Castiel's belly rumbled again, just another cruel reminder of the fact that he hadn't put anything in it all day if you exclude his two cups of coffee. He could feel his skin buzz from the caffeine and, every once in a while, his right eye gave a short, sudden, twitch thanks to his lack of sleep. He'd gotten up at 6:30 that morning to put the gargantuan turkey in the oven which had been thawing for days prior. This was the first time he'd cooked one before, but it was less work than he'd worried over. The holidays were supposed to be a time of relaxation, right? Castiel was not feeling very relaxed at the moment. Not at all, really. The rest of the food could wait a few hours to be started, but that didn't mean the house wasn't a complete and utter  _landfill_ to be sorted out. 

Castiel heard some grumbling coming from the bathroom around eleven or so, and he guessed that Dean was awake. Finally, he could get some help. The Christmas decorations were in various positions on the basement stairs, each resting spot where Castiel had been unable to move them any further. He was supposed to decorate and trim their tree--which was sitting naked and lonely in their living room--last night, but he really wanted Dean to be there so they could do it together, and unfortunately Dean worked too late and so it went undecorated. Now, Castiel was supposed to get that done on top of all of the other things he had to do today.

"Dean," Castiel called with a question mark in his tone. He was currently occupied with standing on a kitchen chair to clean the dust which collected on the blades of the ceiling fan. There was no answer from the top of the stairs.

Castiel sighed and tried again, "Dean, are you up?"

But again, Dean didn't answer, and Castiel was sure he heard the toilet flush, so he carefully hopped off the chair, dumped his dust pan into the garbage in the kitchen, and headed up the staircase to their shared bedroom.

Castiel pushed the door open, and the big lump completely bundled up in sheets and blankets was unmistakably Dean. Castiel rolled his eyes.

"DEAN! Come on, get out of bed!" Castiel said with aggravation.

Dean turned over and squinted at Castiel, looking like a bear who'd been woken out of hibernation early. "Why?" he whined, incredibly child-like.

"Because I've been up since six! We've got a lot of stuff to do before our company gets here,"

Dean groaned and pulled the blanket over his head, but Castiel sat down on the mattress and pulled it away. "I'm serious, you really need to get up. I've got boxes and the vacuum and--"

"Alright, okay, I'll be down in like five minutes,"

Castiel rolled his eyes, but gave in and went back downstairs, mostly because it was time to baste the turkey again, not because he trusted Dean not to go back to sleep.

 

When Dean surfaced, FINALLY, Castiel had managed to bring the boxes up from the basement by himself but had since abandoned that project to mop the kitchen floor. As he entered the living room, Dean was sitting in the middle of the couch wrapped in a throw blanket with the very end of the Macy's Day Parade on TV.

"Well, welcome to the land of the living," Castiel said sarcastically.

"You could have said, 'good morning, baby'," Dean replied, unfazed by Castiel's annoyance.

"Dean, it's noon. And I've had to do most of the cleaning myself,"

"How much could there be, Cas?"

Castiel felt a prickle of heat on the back of his neck, "Are you kidding me? This is the first time that my parents are going to see our house, your mom is driving down here, and your brother is FLYING IN from California for this! Everything needed to be dusted, I had to polish the floors and furniture, run out for groceries, make sure the driveway was shoveled and not icy--your mom's hip, you know--and I still have to do this tree and jesus, Dean, the cooking isn't even STARTED yet!"

Castiel's face was probably red with frustration. He just wanted to cry and take a nap. He wished they hadn't decided to host Thanksgiving dinner this year

Dean was quiet for a moment before starting, "Well, damn, Cas, I didn't realize," he stood up and let the blanket fall and crumple to the edge of the couch. Stretching, still in his boxers and t-shirt that he slept in, Dean said, "What do you need me to do?"

Castiel took a deep breath and shut his eyes for a moment, willing himself to relax. It was going to be okay. They could do this. They had hours.

"Could you please clean the upstairs bathroom? And after that I need you to help me with this tree and by that time, you'll probably need to shower because you're going to need to be dressed before you go get Sam and Jess," Castiel told him.

Dean nodded and went to his assigned job, and Castiel resigned to finish his dusting.

 

It seemed like time was flying. Castiel was hunched over the kitchen table peeling potatoes like his life depended on it. Dean snuck up behind him while he was lost in his mindless task of peeling, thinking of all the horrible ways this dinner could go wrong.

"Hey--I have to leave to get Sammy soon, right?" Dean said. Despite having had to clean the bathroom, he sounded in high spirits, probably because he hadn't seen his younger brother since Easter. He's a lawyer and his fiance Jess is a physical therapis. They met at Stanford in California. Their house is like a mansion and Sam's getting Jess a brand new Mercedes for Christmas this year. It doesn't help that Castiel and Dean's place probably seems like a slum compared to what they're used to. And maybe that's part of the reason why he's freaking out so much.

He snapped out of it when Dean kissed his ear. Then Castiel looked up to see Dean wearing his old green flannel and brown pants. His shirt was untucked.

"Oh my god--what are you thinking? You cannot wear that, Dean...the last time my parents saw you was my sister's wedding! They're going to think my partner is a trucker," Castiel said, mortified. 

Dean looked a little offended, "This is what I always wear, and you never seem to care...I mean I probably wore this shirt the night I picked you up and you--"

"No, you're right, it's fine, just not for today. Put on that tan sweater with the half-zip...please? It looks nice on you," Castiel said, hoping his tone was pleading enough. 

"Fine. But you're being bossy today, Cas," he retorted, but Castiel didn't have time to process whether Dean was mad at him or not, because the water on the stove was boiling and he still had a lot of vegetables to prepare.

 

When Dean left, Castiel managed to calm down a little. He was done cleaning the house, all he had to do was cook and hang some decorations. Dean took the liberty of stringing the lights for him and returning the leftover boxes to the basement. To his delight, the turkey looked perfect. It didn't have much longer to go. Green beans and carrots steamed slowly in pots on the stove and the kitchen started to smell just like it did at Castiel's house when he was little. He was just getting a little sentimental about it when the phone rang.

"What is it?" he asked Dean, stirring the pot of boiling potatoes which he would use for the mashed potatoes.

"Uh, should I pick up something to drink? I don't think we have more than two bottle of beer in the fridge," Dean's voice asked through the line.

Castiel groaned and yanked the refrigerator door open. "Thank god you remembered, Dean. I completely forgot with all this food I'm working on. Get a bottle of wine and whatever beer you want...maybe something different for Jess, I don't know what she likes--I mean does she even drink? Christ, how could I forget about this,"

"Calm down, I have time to stop before I head to the airport. It's gonna be fine, Cas. Don't stress. See you soon," he said sympathetically. Instantly Castiel felt just a tiny bit better and breathed, "Okay. Love you,"

 

It was only the metallic jiggle of the doorknob at the front door that Castiel realized Dean must be back. With Sam. And Jess. And Castiel had a minor stroke. He was still in rumpled jeans and some t-shirt of Dean's that happened to have a faded Chevy logo on it. That was not to mention his bed head, which he hadn't bothered with at all. 

Oh my god, Castiel thought, this is the end. I'm going to die of embarrassment, Sam's fiancee is going to think his brother is a total weirdo with an even bigger weirdo for a partner. A weirdo who wears dirty old clothes to dinner.

"Castiel? We're here!"

Castiel would have to add this to his list of things to be thankful for as he peered out from the kitchen to see his mother and father standing just inside the front door.

"Mom, ugh, you scared me! I thought you were Dean and his brother! I'm not even showered or dressed--I slept in this shirt--" Cas exhaled, hugging both of his parents in the process of venting.

"Go ahead and go take your shower, whatever you've got cooking I'm sure I can take over for a while!" his mother told him.

But Castiel shook his head, "No! You're my guest this year, you guys sit down, relax. I mean you just drove two hours. Don't worry about me. I'm just glad you're not Dean yet,"

"Alright. Do you mind if we hang our coats someplace?" she asked politely, and it was such a strange feeling to host his parents...in his own house.

 

Castiel was finishing up the last of his chores. He set the table, and he was almost certain it was flawless. Then he covered all the pots and set the clean china bowls out so that all he'd have to do is fill them up and bring them to the table after he was dressed. Then he bounded up the steps and took the fastest shower of his life, his stomach in knots. His parents were alone in his living room, his carpenter father probably judging every single atom of his house, and Dean probably only a matter of minutes away. He didn't know if he could really go through with this. He'd never had this much anxiety in his life.

Castiel put on a light gray sweater vest over a powdery blue shirt with an off-white bowtie because it went with Dean's sweater. As he brushed his hair, his stomach growled at him for the first time since the morning. He was suddenly _starving_. Castiel guessed he'd been too distracted by stress all day to think about it too much.

The first thing he was met with as he hurried back downstairs was Dean grabbing his shoulder, "Cas--where's Lucy?"

Oh no. Dean must have gotten in while he was upstairs getting ready. How long had he and his brother been there? 

"I-I don't know, why?" Castiel stammered.

"Because Jess is allergic to cats," Dean said through gritted teeth. Jess and Sam were still nowhere in sight, but Castiel was imagining the worst. Her throat probably swelled closed because Castiel didn't dust behind the TV and some cat dander floated right up into the poor girl's nose. Oh God. She was probably covered in hives and dying _right now_.

"Oh god...I'll shut her in our room," Castiel replied as he hastily scoured the pantry and kitchen for the cat. She was sitting under the table like a hermit. He grabbed her and delivered her to he and Dean's room, then hurried back downstairs.

Dean was starting to bring bowls to the table and Castiel silently thanked him for that. He ventured to the living room after brushing himself off and Sam was there holding a beer, and looking interested in the football game on the TV. He looked away when he noticed Castiel in the room and got to him in three easy strides, squeezing him in a hug.

"Cas! How the hell are you? It's been forever," Sam said cheerfully, and Castiel returned a squeeze and smiled, if uneasily.

"I'm pretty good, what about you?" he inquired, but his eyes searched the room for Jess.

"I'm great--hey, Jess, this is my brother's partner, Castiel,"

A blonde-haired, fair-skinned, slender woman in a pink sweater rose from the couch just beside Castiel's parents and approached the floor in the center of the room where Castiel and Sam were standing. 

"It's so nice to finally meet you!" she exclaimed, seeming hive-free. And very sweet.

"Thank you, I've heard a lot about you. All good things," Castiel laughed nervously. 

Apparently Dean's mother had arrived somewhere between Castiel locking Lucy in his bedroom and his return downstairs because as soon as his conversation with Jess came to a pause, she was wrapping Castiel up in a hug that was as tight as a vice.

"Oooh, Cas, Happy Thanksgiving, sweetie," she cooed. Mary had always liked him, so at least he didn't feel like he needed to earn her approval, even if he needed everyone else's.

She smiled and Dean made a clinking noise with something, probably a spoon, imitating a dinner bell like a nerd from the dining room. "Food's ready, guys,"

"Did you cook, Dean?" Sam asked in disbelief, a lop-sided grin on his face.

Dean raised his eyebrows and shook his head, "Not. This is Castiel's work," 

Castiel felt like everyone's eyes burned into his skull. "What does everyone want to drink?" he blurted before his brain shut down.

Dean shimmied between the chairs and the wall and touched his arm to get his attention, "Oh, Sam brought a really nice bottle of wine from a vineyard out there. I just picked up beer, cider, and soda,"

Castiel should have known that Sam could probably afford some expensive bottle of wine. It would have been sudden death for Dean to bring home a $15 brand at the liquor store.

He nodded and swallowed a lump in his throat, then went into the kitchen trying to memorize everyone's drink orders and not have a mental breakdown.

While he gathered glasses from the cupboard, he struggled to reach the top row of wine glasses. If only he were two inches taller, it would be no issue, but--

_**SMASH!** _

Castiel stared at the floor. The volume in the dining room dropped to zero. 

Dean appeared in the doorframe looking bewildered, "What happened?"

Castiel's eyes burned, brimming with hot tears that had undeniably been waiting to pour out all day. He crouched down slowly without answering Dean and began picking up the bigger pieces of shattered glass.

Dean took a few steps closer to the scene. "You okay?"

Castiel looking up reluctantly with a deep frown on his face, his lips clamped shut for his distrust of his throat to withhold a cry. He sniffled once and Dean seemed baffled.

"Did you get hurt, Cas?" Dean wanted to know, concerned. Castiel shook his head.

"Then what?"

"Everything is wrong," he blubbered, trying to keep his voice down so no one in the next room could hear him. He let a tear slip down his face. Dean crouched beside him and put his hand on Castiel's back.

"What are you talking about? Nothing is wrong," Dean said, his brows knitting together at the center in confusion.

"I--you--this...I'm a mess. The tree and the cat and drinks...rushing around all day long...we didn't get to spend any time together," he sighed, wiping his own tears and feeling like a pathetic child.

"Hey, listen to me--you put a fucking fantastic meal out there on that table, Cas. Here, stand up--I'll get the dust pan. And you worked so hard all day while I was nothing but a lazy ass, okay? Our house is spotless, like out of a catalog. What you've done is absolutely amazing. I doubt I couldn't pulled this off," Dean said, pulling Castiel against his chest as they gingerly stepped over the glass on the floor.

"You weren't lazy. Y-you just slept in," Castiel breathed, his nose suddenly stuffy from crying.

"Stop worrying, you did such a good job. I love you so much," Dean told him, and boy, did Castiel ever need it more than now.

"I love you, too," he replied, hugging Dean and then stepping back. He wiped his eyes on a napkin and Dean responded, "Go out and sit down at the table. Eat. I'll clean this up and bring everybody's drinks in,"

 

At the dinner table, Castiel felt a significantly lesser weight on his chest. Nobody said much with food in their mouth. Thankfully, Dean's mother didn't disappoint with her praise of Castiel's cooking, and this inspired Sam to comment.

"Damn, Cas, if only Jess could cook like this," he laughed. Castiel turned as red as the cranberry sauce on the table.

Jess swatted at Sam and told Castiel, "Oh, like he's any better--Mr. I-Burn-Grilled-Cheese,"

Castiel managed to smile and laugh at that, and especially the look Sam got on his face when Dean told a story about how he put a can of Chef Boyardi ravioli in the microwave when he was little--can and all--and nearly burned the kitchen down.

This was when Castiel relaxed and his parents caught up with him over Sam's fancy wine. It was literally the best Castiel had ever tasted. If he drank enough of it by the end of the night, he'd forget about his entire pain-staking day. Dean's cheeks were looking rosy through dessert and Jess was giggling at every lame jab Sam and Dean threw back and forth at eachother. Castiel's parents had to leave shortly after dinner because they had a long drive. They promised to cook for Christmas to repay Castiel for such a nice meal. Dean's mother was next to leave, taking some of the leftovers with her and kissing both of Castiel's cheeks on her way out the door.

After that, everyone seemed to migrate to the couches in the living room. It was a much lighter atmosphere. Castiel squeezed into the leftover space between Dean and the arm of his chair. 

"When are you guys gonna move out here? Cali is awfully far," Dean complained to Sam, taking a swig of his beer as he awaited a response. He always bothered Sam about living so far away. Castiel put his arms around Dean's neck and his legs in Dean's lap. He kind of liked having their living room full of people.

"I keep telling him that. I mean...," she glanced at Sam and they exchanged some kind of silent language, then they were clasping hands and Jess winked up at Dean, "how are you going to visit your nephew?"

Dean, who was a little bit tipsy, afterall, gave them both a blank stare at first, and then a smile spread from cheek to cheek and he raised his voice a little, "Yer shittin' me," he half laughed.

"Nope," Sam said, the tone of his voice almost a mirror of Dean's. Castiel absently realized why Jess hadn't been drinking.

"That's crazy! I mean, that's awesome! It's crazy, though, Sammy, congratulations," Dean told his brother excitedly.

"Congratulations," Castiel said to the couple, genuinely happy. 

 

Castiel was just setting dinner plates to the sink when Dean pressed his chest to Castiel's back. "Jess and my brother went to bed a little bit ago," he said in a low voice. He rested his hands on Castiel's waist.

"Well, Jess _was_ asleep on the couch," Castiel said with a small laugh. As he turned to go back to the dining room for more dishes, Dean blocked him. "Dean, I've got to clean this up," he added in Dean's silence, exhausted.

"It's only dishes. It can wait until tomorrow. Listen, how about we...," Dean murmured softly, his nose pressed to Castiel's cheek and warm mouth inches from his ear. He slid warm hands over the hot flesh of Castiel's neck to cradle his head. His voice was less slurred than earlier. Castiel leaned into the touch and put arms around Dean's waist.

"Not with guests here," Castiel replied with a bit of disappointment.

Dean smirked, big and dopey-like, loosening the tie around Castiel's throat. "I think you deserve special treatment after the day you've had, Cas...I mean, don't you think? You can have whatever you want," 

Dean's breath was literally in Castiel's ear and his lips were hovering at his earlobe, forcing a shiver through Castiel's body. Dean pressed his hips down against Castiel's.

"Dean..."

"Let me take care of you, please," Dean whispered, his voice deep and throaty, caressing Castiel's cheek with his thumb. It was too much. 

Castiel pushed his lips up against Dean's and he tilted his head to accommodate Castiel. Dean's mouth tasted faintly of the brand of beer he drank, wet and hot when he opened it to let Castiel stick his tongue inside. Dean pressed Castiel's hips back to pin his body against a counter top and rut against him. Castiel gently bit Dean's bottom lip, a fucking treasure to behold, all pink and plush, and pulled teasingly. Dean breathed into Castiel's mouth raggedly, surging forward to kiss Castiel again when he finally released his lip. Castiel reached around their bodies and grabbed Dean's ass, pulling him closer. Dean made a small noise, but it was muffled by their connected mouths. Castiel could feel Dean's dick through his slacks, pressing against his hip while they finished a kiss.

"Come upstairs," he told Dean, his lips tender from their kissing.

Dean was very close behind as they got into the room--quietly--and they started undressing. Dean clamped his hands on Castiel's bony hips and dropped to his knees in the room, lit by a small lamp on their nightstand. Usually Dean was grabbing Castiel and lifting him onto the bed and attacking him with hickies and kisses, and that was fucking hot, but not this time. He was really going slow and sinking his mouth down on Castiel's swollen cock, and hell if Castiel didn't thoroughly enjoy the extra attention. "God, Dean...," he breathed raggedly, "get your fingers inside of me,"

Dean's chin was sufficiently wet from sucking cock, and it was shiny in what little light shone in their bedroom. He stuck two fingers in his mouth to saturate them and Castiel managed to shuffle over to the bed and lie back. Dean slung Castiel's legs over his shoulders and pressed at Castiel's puckered little hole with his wet fingers. His middle finger disappeared into the tight muscle easily. Castiel moaned softly, only to stop himself in remembering that they weren't the only people in the house.

Dean took his finger away too soon, but before Castiel could protest, he replaced it with his tongue.

" _Fuck..._ that's it, _Ohh_ , Dean," Castiel tried to say quietly. It was hard with Dean pulling his ass cheeks open and spitting on his rim, running those lips over it to feel the flutter of Castiel's hole and sending his tongue out to lap into him and trace him and make Castiel absolutely squirm. Castiel was so wet from Dean's unrelenting affections that when he pushed two fingers into it, they went with an easy _pop_. He scissored them a little bit and Castiel was getting antsy.

"I need you, ugh, God," Castiel whined, arching his back. Dean kissed the under of Castiel's thigh.

"You feel good, baby?" Dean asked raspily, making a little curl of heat rise in Castiel's stomach.

"Yes, Jesus, _move_ your _fingers_ ," Castiel demanded, looking down at Dean, propped up on one elbow.

Dean pushed his fingers in and out of Castiel slowly at first, and Castiel loved it. He was shaking from the stimulation, already, like Dean was reading his mind, going fast and slow, too much and too little at the same time. 

"Look so good like this, Cas. Legs fuckin' spread and blushing...all this attention," Dean told him, kissing up one of Castiel's thighs.

" _God_ , I need you so _bad,"_ Castiel breathed out, wrecked. Sweat was dripping from his forehead into his hair.

"Yeah? Need my cock, baby? Tell me," Dean asked languidly, taking his fingers out of Castiel's stretched hole. Castiel's cock was leaking on his belly, and Dean licked a stripe up it for good measure. Castiel wriggled on the bed again.

"Yes. Fuck me, I need you. Now, Dean," Castiel said truthfully. He felt like if he didn't have the thick warmth of something back inside of him he'd die. He knew he was acting a little bossy, but Dean brought this on himself with that filthy mouth.

Dean shifted and went in the drawer of their nightstand for lube. Castiel closed his eyes and bent his legs up as far as he could manage, giving his own cock some much-needed attention while Dean slicked himself up.

It was relief when Dean pressed the head of his cock into Castiel's hole and bliss when his length slid inside of him until he bottomed out. 

"You're so fucking gorgeous, Cas," Dean muttered, and somehow it wasn't cheap. Castiel knew Dean really meant it just by the way it came out of his mouth. He grabbed at Dean's ass in an attempt to make him go even deeper, leaving behind red scratches with his nails.

Dean rocked his hips, knowing what pace Castiel liked, what he responded to most. And he tried his very best to hit Castiel's prostate with his thrusts. Castiel had to bite down hard to suppress his moans when Dean brushed his prostate just right, made him arch and shake. It wasn't long before Dean was going so fast and the friction was so intense, the coil in the pit of Castiel's belly released and he came on his stomach between them, gasping and seeing fuzzy black spots in his vision. His whole body was limp at that, and the added pressure on Dean's cock was his end. He finished while still inside of Castiel with a few short bursts.

Dean's voice was blown when he said, "I love you so goddamn much,"

Castiel was already getting up to find a towel. "I love you, too," he smiled and kissed Dean, who was still bonelessly lying in the bed, sweaty. Cas wiped himself off and then climbed back into bed.

 

"Don't ever overwork yourself like that again, hear me?" Dean said a while after Castiel thought he'd fallen asleep. 

"Okay," he replied exhaustedly.

"I mean it. You can always ask me for help. That's why I'm here," Dean told him in a serious tone, turning his head to plant his lips on Castiel's temple for a moment.

"I'm sorry," Castiel sighed, moving his body closer to Dean's. He was warm.

"You do enough. You're enough. Always," Dean sighed.

 


End file.
